Benjamin the Donkey's Journals
by alphanocten
Summary: Apparently, I wrote Animal Farm fanfiction for 8th grade reading class. So here it is, completely unaltered from when it was turned in on November 2nd, 2008. Benjamin the cynical donkey has some complaints about labor and life on Napoleon's Russian communist farm.


31 July

So far, this so-called Rebellion is in full swing, though I think it's on the verge of crumbling into pieces. Ever since Old Major taught us that silly song of hope, butterflies, and happiness, it's been sung without a pause and I hate it. I hate it and can't get it out of my head.

The other animals, pigs especially, just don't understand the natural order of things. I don't like humans myself, but they will always control us in one form or another. They have tools and weapons we could only dream of. I told them that donkeys live for a long time and it's true. In my long years, I have never heard of such a stupid, fanciful proposal such as this Rebellion. Soon, the humans will come back and kill us all.

The only dependable creature around here seems to be Boxer. I am absolutely amazed by his sheer strength of character and his work ethic. But, I fear he is submerged too deep in Snowball and Napoleon's thinking. He seems to be following them blindly and overworking at the same time. Doesn't he see there's no hope? Doesn't he see that he's just following the others off of a cliff?

As for me, I just go along for the ride and work only when I have to. Meanwhile, I'll just watch Animal Farm fall and be overrun by foul humans.

7 December 

It's even worse now. "Comrade" Napoleon has taken over the farm. I was right all along, the world will crumble into pieces and Man will be the one to pick them up.

But, right now, I don't really care about Napoleon because he's going to fail. He wanted to teach us how to shoot guns! I can't believe how insane he is. Also, he's a hypocrite. I mean, he was _against _the windmill, but now he's like "Boxer, build the windmill." And that's just not right. He also stole those puppies from Bluebell and Jessie and trained them to be his personal guard. I've seen a lot, but those beasts are more ferocious than Jones!

I can't believe he chased out Snowball with the guard dogs. They are both stuck-up pigs, but forcing your opponent out with violence isn't fair. Now, he has let the pigs take over the farm. They run everything from work schedules to feeding. I don't see a good way out, so I'll just have to go along as I always do.

On the subject of Mollie, she was a silly horse, and will remain a silly horse. Choosing ribbons and sugar over not having Man, that was a bad decision. I guess we'll have to enjoy this fake freedom for as long as we can.

3 March

Oh, how the days have gotten worse and worse. I have seen my own fellows slaughtered before my own eyes. The squeals of pain and the stench of blood will remain fresh in my memory for years to come. That Napoleon! I hate him with every fiber of my being. He is now willing to kill other animals when it clearly says on the barn wall that no animal shall kill another and he has grossly breached that pledge.

Those dogs! They started as sweet, innocent puppies, but now have become monsters. Those demons bend to every whim of Napoleon and feed on the blood of the farm animals. As for Mr. Whymper, he is a foolish human. He's been deceived by Napoleon with visions of full grain bins and plentiful eggs when there are none. I hope he sees the truth very soon.

Those poor hens! They are forced to watch as their unhatched eggs are carted away to feed some humans. I usually do not pity or worry about others, but in this case I shall make an exception. I also pity Snowball, the hope of the Rebellion, since he is the official farm scapegoat. If one little thing goes wrong, it's blamed on Snowball.

Gone are the days when we dreamed of blue skies and equality, and now are the days of Napoleon's rule. I am afraid that his chokehold on the hearts and minds of the animals is now becoming too tight to shake him loose. For now, I will just carry on with my usual donkey work.

9 April

It's kind of funny that I'm the only animal on the Farm that knows what is really going on with Napoleon's new government. Those silly beasts, didn't they realize that Squealer was editing the 7 Commandments? My speculations were confirmed when we saw Squealer, as drunk as a pig can be, scrawled "to excess" after the Commandment on alcohol, then collapse to the ground. I really would try and turn this farm around, but I wouldn't risk an execution by one of those dogs.

I'm afraid that Napoleon now has become the very enemy we kicked out of the Farm. Moving into the farmhouse, sleeping in beds, what a no-good, stuck-up pig! Poor Boxer, he doesn't know a thing about all this, and even if I told him, he wouldn't believe me as a result of his Napoleon-worshipping.

I've heard that the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. I've reached that point now. I don't care. I'm just going to sit tight and do what I'm told and eat my rations until the world sorts itself out again. In the end, it will always be human master and animal and it will continue like that for eons to come.

31 July

It has been several years since the first entry of this journal and all of my fears have been confirmed. First off, Boxer is dead. Sent to the knacker, probably turned into a bottle of glue by now. Why Boxer? Yes, he was dimwitted and blinded by that _pig_ Napoleon, but he was so strong. If only I could have convinced him that Napoleon isn't always right, he could use his physical prowess to put Napoleon to justice. But no, he's gone now. Clover and I are extremely morose these days.

If I were a young donkey, I would stop at nothing to kill and torture Napoleon. Boxer didn't deserve to die. Napoleon does. Animal Farm is dead. Nowadays, he's abolished and mutilated every single Commandment, from wearing clothes to walking on two legs. He looks just like a human, or do the humans look like him? I may never know.

The truth is, we are worse off than we were in Jones's day. He whipped us, he starved us, but nothing is worse than the shame of being ordered around by a fellow animal.

The remaining original animals of this farm, including Clover and myself, are dying, and soon the younger animals will never know what the Rebellion was all about and will just swallow everything fed by Napoleon and Squealer. This is the last thing I'm ever going to write.


End file.
